


There's Nothing Quite Wrong(But it Don't Feel Right)

by orphan_account



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Earp Homestead, Established Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, F/F, Helpful Wynonna Earp, Injury, LGBTQ Themes, Minor Violence, Nicghtmares, Nicole Haught Backstory, Nicole Haught has Nightmares, Nicole accidentally hurts Waverly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, So much angst, Sometime during season 3, Supportive Waverly Earp, Wayhaught - Freeform, WynHaught - Freeform, Wynonna Earp & Nicole Haught Friendship, but not really and she gets freaked out, scared Nicole Haught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-18 16:44:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everyone has nightmares, and sometimes they make us do things we're not proud of.orA mid-season 3 one-shot where Nicole has a nightmare about the Cult of Bulshar Massacre and accidentally hurts Waverly.





	There's Nothing Quite Wrong(But it Don't Feel Right)

**Author's Note:**

> This is angsty as hell. Read at your own risk. Title is from The Other by Lauv (great song would recommend). Pretty much unedited(seriously I need an editor) and all I own are the errors. Enjoy!

Waverly isn’t sure what’s happening. One minute, she’s curled up with her girlfriend sleeping peacefully; the next, she’s lying on the floor with said girlfriend’s hands around her neck.

Nicole's not awake —not really. Her whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat and there are tears dripping from the corners of her closed eyes. Her hands— her soft but strong, tender hands are coiling around Waverly’s throat and tightening.

“Nic—“ Waverly gasps. ‘Nicole!” But she can’t hear her. She’s overcome with images of blood and bodies and smoke. So much smoke. Thick ropes of black tearing at her lungs and squeezing at her heart as she struggles to breathe. She can see him. The demon. A blur of leather and wickedness as he slaughters everything. _Everyone._

“Nicole!” Waverly slaps at Nicole’s biceps, attempting to push her off as her own face wets with tears. She knows Nicole isn’t in control of her actions, which is possibly what makes the whole thing scarier. “Nicole, it’s— it’s Waverly. You’re hurting me—Stop!”

There’s a shotgun blast in Nicole’s brain and she’s flinging herself off of Waverly, who heaves in a breath as her airways are no longer restricted. Nicole is more than awake and she looks at her hands like they aren’t her own.

They are black, the color of death. Plumes of smoke, choking and blocking and hurting. Suddenly, the world slants. The floor is tilted and Nicole can picture herself slipping off an edge. _The_ edge. She feels like falling over and stumbles to the ground. She caused _hurt_.

 _Hurting._ She _hurt_ Waverly. Her sweet, beautiful Waverly who was struggling beneath her moments before. Struggling to breathe. Because of Nicole.

The ropes are back, cutting into Nicole’s chest and tying knots so tight she doesn’t think they’ll ever come undone. Waverly, who has managed to relocate to the end of the bed, watches her crumple. Her face is ashen, contrasting starkly with her fiery hair. She’s looks at her hands as if she wants to cut them off until she shoves them underneath her. Waverly’s own are separated, one rests on her thigh while the other touches her throat softly. There might be some bruises, but Nicole stopped herself before any real damage was done—To Waverly anyway. The brunette can see the way she’s wrestling with her thoughts, trying not to sink into the murky waters.

Maybe she should wait, but Waverly slips off the edge of the bed and moves toward Nicole. She’s resting against the back wall of the room, knees tucked up and hands hidden behind her. Her head is bowed, but Waverly can see the tears streaming down her cheeks; mixing with the horror and panic flaring in her eyes. Nicole didn’t need to look up to know Waverly was coming toward her. The room was so still it was suffocating, and the smallest noise sounded like a bomb going off.

“Waverly.” Her voice wasn’t harsh or commanding, but almost pleading with a hoarseness from crying. “Don’t. Don’t come near me.”

“Baby,” Waverly whispers. She wants to touch her, to hug her tightly and not let go. She keeps her distance, however, knowing Nicole won’t be pushed into this. If she thought she’d hurt Waverly, she’d have to come back slowly. Waverly dares another step, kneeling down with a few feet of space between them. “I’m okay.”

“I hurt you,” Nicole croaks. “Oh, god, Waves, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, Nic, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. And you stopped yourself.”

“What if I couldn’t have?” Nicole looks like a lost child. Her voice is small, smaller than Waverly has ever witnessed. If the room wasn’t so deadly silent, she may not heave heard her. “What if I really did something?”

Waverly doesn’t know what to say. If that were to happen, she’s not sure what. But she’s not afraid, and she tell Nicole that. “Do you remember when I told you that you scared me?” She takes Nicole’s silence as a note of affirmation. “Well, you did at first. Completely freaking terrifying. Because you were new and confident and knew exactly what you wanted. I didn’t. And that scared me, because when I finally did realize, I wanted you. And I didn’t know how to get you. So I dove in headfirst, because that’s what I do. With the curse, with Curtis, with Bulshar. I don’t know how else to approach things. So when I finally took that jump, I thought I could die. It was a good terror, but it quickly went away.

“You became my home instead. A place— a person— _my_ person, who made me feel safe when my world was falling apart. That’s what you do, Nicole, you comfort me. And sure, sometimes these feelings are scary, because they’re real and they’re raw and they’re so, so extreme. But you, Nicole Haught, you don’t scare me. I trust you with everything I have. I know you won’t hurt me.”

Nicole’s visage has lightened just the slightest, like a single ray of sunshine has broken through the clouds. It’s a start. Waverly reaches out to touch her, grazing Nicole’s shoulder long enough to feel the muscles ripple beneath. Then Nicole jerks back, nearly slamming her head into the wall. Sudden’y she’s standing up and breathing in and trying to find something. “I- I think I should go. I need to go.” She works around Waverly, gathering the stray remnants of her uniform. Waverly reaches out for her hand as she reaches for the keys on the nightstand.

“No. No, you’re not driving like this. You could do something stupid,” Waverly states, cutting her a stern look.

“I already did.” Her barely-there vox is gravelly and matter-of-fact. “I’ll be fine.” Frankly, Nicole doesn’t care if she is. All she wants is to get away from Waverly in case she freaks out again. Whatever happens to her is simply an afterthought pushed to the back of her head.

Waverly hesitates, but reaches out to caress her cheek. “Baby, it’s okay, really. But if you need to— just sleep on the couch. I can’t be worried about you making it back to your place.” Nicole looks wary, still wanting to leave. But in the split-second where Nicole relaxes into Waverly’s gentle touch, the brunette uses her other hand to slip the keys out of Nicole’s grasp.

“Waverly. . .”

“If you're that worried, baby, just sleep on the couch. You're _not_ driving.”

“Okay,” she caves, starting toward the door. “I- I love you.”

“I love you too.” Waverly smiles softly until she disappears down the hallway, door closing behind her.

She presses her forehead against the wood and lets tears flow down her cheeks. Nicole makes it halfway down the stairs before she folds in on herself and silent sobs wrack her body.

_The ground has shifted slightly, not nearly as vertical as it was a few minutes ago. But it still hurts._

* * *

It's another two days before Nicole will touch Waverly again. Even then, she won't hug or kiss her; it's just soft touches on the arm or holding Nicole's hand in hers. Waverly is patient, she'll wait as long as she has to for whatever Nicole needs because she'd do the same for Waverly. She  _did_ do the same for Waverly in the premature days of their relationship.

Nicole still won't sleep in the same bed as her, even in the same room, but at least she's been able to keep her at the Homestead. Nicole had planned to resort back to her place and avoid Waverly altogether, but her headstrong, stubborn girlfriend wouldn't budge on this. When she's not at the station, making excuses about working more now that she's sheriff, Nicole finds herself in the barn. It's cold as shit, but she's been keeping herself busy cleaning and going at it with the punching bag she found. Dolls had been planning on hanging it in the barn for when someone got too fired up—not an uncommon occurrence on Earp land. Nicole found it in the corner of the barn and set it up. 

She's in a pair of sweats and an academy hoodie, the constant movement on the bag being enough to keep the bite of Canada's winter morning from getting her. She has work in an hour, and will have to leave sooner than that to stop by her house to shower and feed Calamity.  _Just a few more hits._

There's only been two times in her life when she felt this guilty. One when she's been this angry at herself.

She swipes an uppercut as she thinks of Waverly struggling beneath her. 

Left hook for the way she could hear Waverly crying for hours. 

A bolo for the look Waverly gets in her eyes every time Nicole doesn't reciprocate a touch. 

A quick succession of crosses and jabs, wishing she was the one receiving the blows. Maybe to receive some of the pain she deserves after what she did to Waverly. Because she hurt Waverly and that's the one thing she _promised_ she'd never do.

Suddenly she's wailing on the bag with no sense of direction or control. There are tears hot on her cheeks and she pounds her fists into the stiff leather, crying out in frustration. She rears back and prepares to throw all her weight into a punch. Nicole's vision is blurry and her head is spinning; she thrusts her clenched hand out, hitting about six inches to the left of the bag. Her extended arm catches her as she falls, but there's a sickening crack as she hits the floor.

"Fuck!" She screams, curling in as she grips her wrist. There's a clatter behind her but she's so disoriented it sounds far away, almost underwater. Waverly, who'd had the intention of bringing her girlfriend breakfast, but quickly became distracted by the way Nicole's back muscles rippled as she hit the bag, dropped the plate she was holding. 

"Baby, baby," Waverly sinks down beside her and pulls Nicole into her lap, cradling her head. Nicole would be embarrassed by the way she's sobbing, but this is the most contact she's had with Waverly in seventy-two hours and it's more cries of relief than pain. It doesn't even hurt that bad. Not only has she done it before, but she's experienced far worse damage than a fracture. Maybe just because she misses her. "For Pete's sake, Nicole."

 _I deserve it._ Nicole thinks. As if Waverly read her mind, the brunette clenches her jaw and gives her a hard look. "Stop," Waverly clips, then her face softens. "Wait, Nic, did you do this on purpose?" Nicole shakes her head and has to bite her lip to keep from crying out again. Waverly dismisses it for the moment, helping her stand up. "Let's go."

 "Where?"

"The hospital, dummy," Waverly finds it in herself to laugh as she wraps an arm around Nicole's waist. 

"Waves." Nicole tries to free herself from her girlfriend's grasp. "I can walk. It's my wrist, not my legs."

"Just let me help," Waverly pleads. "Please." And because Nicole is feeling too weak to not be selfish, she let's her body mold against Waverly's and relax, just for a little while.

* * *

 "Well, Sheriff, you got lucky. It was a clean break; shouldn't take too long to heal," Her doctor says, giving a once-over at the x-rays. "Better keep off it for a while, though. Your drawing arm is down for a bit so I'd recommend some time off. At least out of the field."

"I'll make sure she's not in the field for a while, Doctor," Waverly assures, glancing at Nicole. "She probably won't listen otherwise."

"I had a feeling," She says, before returning to the checklist on her clipboard. "Alright, I'll send someone in here to cast you up and you can be on your way. Have a nice day, ladies." The white lab coat disappears out the door and Waverly turns to Nicole. 

"What were you thinking?" Waverly sighs, looking over her girlfriend. Her skin is flushed and there's a bag of ice taped around her right wrist, swollen and bruised. 

"I wasn't," Nicole deadpans. "Really, it's not a big deal. It's just a broken wrist."

"This is about more than that and you  _know_ it." Waverly's voice, although quiet, has a steely sense of hurt. Nicole's mouth opens to speak, then closes when a nurse appears in the doorway.

 

"Okay, you're all set. . . no pun intended." He smiles, finishing up on her wrist and examining his work a final time. "You live by yourself, Sheriff?"

"Yeah, why?" Nicole quirks an eyebrow, ignoring the look on Waverly's face. 

"Well, I wouldn't recommend being alone, at least for the first few days. Speaking from experience, it's not easy to duct tape a trash bag around your cast to shower one-handed." He laughs, winking at Nicole. She's too out of it to catch it, but Waverly tenses beside her and reaches for her good hand. The nurse looks to Waverly. "You a friend?"

" _Girlfriend_."

"Right," he pauses for a moment, recovering smoothly. "Well, would you be able to give her some help?"

"Of course, I wouldn't be a very good girlfriend if I let my baby struggle or get hurt again." It's a harmless comment, really. Just Waverly being a jealous and protective. Normally it would amuse Nicole, or even turn her on. But the wording makes the laugh die in her throat and she bites her lip.  _Struggle._ _Waverly struggling because of me. Not a good girlfriend. I'm a bad girlfriend._ In the harsh light of the hospital room can see the faint outline of fingers—her fingers— on Waverly's neck. 

"Can we go?" She blurts, feeling everything start to constrict around her. "I'd like to go. Thank you, sir, but I  _need_ to get out of here."

Waverly's voice catches in a way only Nicole can recognize when she says,"Sorry, she's jumpy. Seen the inside of a hospital one too many times."

He nods kindly. "I understand," he laughs. "I mean, it is my job. But yes, you're free to go. Someone will bring your things and you can be on your way."

 

"Nic, what's up?" They're barely to the Jeep before the question falls from Waverly's lips. She's been patient, waited like she's supposed to for Nicole to be ready. But she can't sit and watch her rip herself apart anymore. "Something set you off in there and I want to know what it was." 

"Nothing, Waverly." Nicole stays trained on her cast, black tape over fiberglass starting at the bases of her fingers and stopping just short of her elbow. Her fingers are puffy, and she traces the splotchy spots of purple with her eyes. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

Waverly snorts,"Right. 'Cause this looks like _fine_. Seriously, I know you're still shaken up from the other night but—"

" _Shaken up?_ Waverly, you know I haven't slept since then? Because I can't take the nightmares. Because I'm terrified I'll hurt someone again."

"You didn't hurt me, Nic," Waverly argues. Nicole may be stubborn as a mule but it's nothing compared to her girlfriend.

"But I  _could_ have!" Nicole, despite how upset she is, has enough sense to not slam her injured hand against the dashboard. "Hell, Waverly, you said it yourself. Not a very good girlfriend if I let my girlfriend struggle. Is that not what I did? When I wrapped my hands around your throat?"

"Nic. . . you weren't even awake.  It's not your fault you have nightmares. You're fine, I'm fine,  _we're_ fine."

"Yeah, Waves," Nicole clips, using her casted hand to gesture between them. "Like you said, this is totally what fine looks like." She averts her gaze to the passenger window and Waverly doesn't speak again. As soon as the car comes to a stop on the Earp Homestead, Nicole goes to the cupboard in the kitchen that Waverly thinks is a hiding spot and pulls her keys out from behind a bottle of Crown Royal. She's out the door and in the driver seat of her cruiser before either of the sisters can stop her. 

The youngest Earp stands in the doorway, causing a twisted version of déjà vu for the redhead behind the wheel. Only now Waverly is not sending a dreamy smile like the day Nicole and Wynonna were kidnapped. She's got tears on her cheeks and anguish in her eyes.

This time, Nicole can't keep it together long enough to be sensible or even care about the fact that she just snapped her wrist and it'll hurt even more. She beats her cast into the steering wheel as she drives towards her house and away from Waverly. The fire going from her fingertips to her shoulder doesn't even begin to match the way her heart aches in her chest.

* * *

 Nicole is cast under cloud of painkillers and beer so deep that she doesn't even hear the slamming of a car door and boots on her front walk. Wynonna knocks three times before inviting herself in. Nicole is lying on the couch, TV humming softly with old  _Golden Girls_ reruns. There are three beer bottles scattered on the coffee table along with a bottle of Advil and some water. Her gun is placed haphazardly on the end table closest to her feet, safety mechanism down of course, because _it's Nicole fucking Haught and of course she'd have the safety on. A true narc,_ Wynonna thinks. 

"Haught!" Wynonna barks, hitting her roughly with a pillow but still kind enough to avoid her arm. "Get your ass up." 

Nicole flails up, lunging toward her gun until she sees Wynonna standing there. She groans, the sudden movement sending pain spiraling through her arm now that the Ibuprofen has worn off. "Fuck, Wynonna, you scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, well, you aren't exactly on high alert here are you, Sheriff?" Wynonna gestures to Nicole's gun and the beer bottles, then laughed at the irony of it. "Although, I do have to applaud you. Drinking to avoid facing your problems? You really are meant to be with an Earp."

Nicole snorts,"Yeah, pretty sure I fucked that up. She's better off, though. . . or at least, she will be." Wynonna sighs, sweeping bottles on to the carpet before sitting down on the coffee table they occupied moments before. She waits for Nicole to straighten up before speaking. 

"As much as I hate to admit it, that's not true. You're good for her, Haught."

"I fucked up, Wynonna. I _hurt_ her. You should understand better than anyone why I need to stay away." Nicole's voice isn't accusatory; it's not meant to be a jab at Wynonna. It's simply a note of acknowledgement at the parallels between their experiences. 

 "You know she broke my finger once?" Wynonna's eyes have a sliver of sincerity behind their usual playfulness, her voice almost wistful as she recalls the instance. "I was nine, so Waverly was barely four. Yeah, we were playing, got a little too rough. I was pretty pissed, but I knew she didn't do it on purpose. She felt so bad too, barely old enough to even comprehend what she did and Waverly still had as much empathy as she does now." Nicole stares at her, eyes wide, like she's waiting for her to go on. When she doesn't, Nicole gives her a questioning look. "Look, dude, the point is: we all fuck up sometimes. We hurt each other on accident, sometimes on purpose. But just like I knew that Waverly loved me back then, she knows that you love her. You didn't mean to hurt her."

"But I did, Wynonna. Jesus, I'm honestly surprised you didn't come over here to aim Peacemaker between my eyes."

"You might be a bit bossy and a little obnoxious sometimes, but you're no demon. You're not a bad person, Nicole, you're one of the good ones."

"I still fucked up."

"Damn it, Haught, you're as stubborn as Waverly sometimes," Wynonna laughs, dragging a hand down her face and releasing a low breath. "Dude, do you know how much I fuck up? I'm Wynonna goddamn Earp, fucking up is my thing. I am a fuck up. I fucked up when I shot Willa. I fucked up when I ignored Waverly. I fucked up when I left. Half of my relationship with my sister is fuck ups. And she loves me anyway; she knows I love her. And do I deserve it? Hell no. But that's Waverly. The thing is though, Haught, you're not like me. My sister has always seemed like a relatively happy person, but it's nothing compared to the way she lights up with you. Honestly, Nicole, after all the idiots I've seen flood through this place, trying to win Waverly's heart for their own selfish reasons, I'm starting to think you're the only person that might actually deserve her."

"Wynonna I. . ."

"Because she needs you and she loves you, even if she's scared to admit it. My sister has been through tough shit, some of it because of me, and is scared. Because she loved Mama, who left. She loved Willa, who turned _evil_ and died and left and died again. She loved me, who left. So I think you know that the biggest fuck up would be if you close yourself off and leave her like everyone else."

"You're right," Nicole sighs, her head dropping between her shoulders. 

 "Go fix whatever you've convinced yourself you've broken. I'm gonna hang out here for a while, drink all your beer and probably pass out on your couch. Because I don't wanna hear you two making up like the last time you fought. Honestly, have a little respect for your elders."

"Wynonna," Nicole laughs. "You're like a year older than me."

"Whatever. Now, go, Nicole." Wynonna waves her hand, plopping down on the couch and pushing Nicole off of it. The redhead disappears into her bedroom, reappearing a few minutes later looking a lot less disheveled. She shuffles around, struggling to pull on her shoes one-handed. Nicole winces as she shoves her arm into her jacket. "You did something else to it, didn't you?"

"Beat it against the steering wheel on the drive home earlier," Nicole admits. Wynonna snickers, shooting her a look. 

"I swear, you're beginning to sound more and more like an Earp." 

Nicole chuckles, tugging a PPD beanie over her hair and starting toward the door. Their eyes meet, and there's something on Nicole's tongue that would sound a lot like  _'Thank you.",_ but instead she says, "There's Fireball in the cabinet next to the microwave." 

Wynonna understands.

* * *

 Nicole stands with her good fist resting against the wood of the Homestead's front door for almost five minutes before she packs up the courage to knock. Waverly's there in an instant, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. They go wide when she sees Nicole, bottom lip catching between her teeth. 

"Hey," Nicole says softly, picking absentmindedly at the strap of her sling. 

"Hey," Waverly echoes, hands wringing together. 

"Can I. . ." Nicole trails off as Waverly steps aside to let her in. The brunette's eyes dart around the room, landing on every possible thing except Nicole as the two of them sit down in the living room. 

"I fucked up," Nicole affirms bluntly, her shoulders shrugging slightly. "I hurt you and maybe I didn't mean to, but I still hurt you. I'm so, so sorry."

"You already apologized for the other night—" Nicole cuts her off, "I'm not talking about the other night. You were right, I was out of my head and it was beyond my control. I'm talking about the last few days. I got scared, Waverly, of myself and of losing you. So I acted like an ass and closed myself off because I thought I was protecting you." Waverly goes to protest but Nicole continues. "And I know, Waves. I know you don't need protecting. You're amazing and strong and you don't need me to keep you safe. But as you can see, I haven't exactly been thinking. So I'm sorry that I pushed you away and I'm sorry I've been a dick."

"Oh, Nicole," Waverly reaches for her hand and Nicole doesn't shy away this time. She grips back just as tightly. "I'm sorry too. I know that the nightmares and Bulshar stuff is hard for you and I've been so wrapped up with my own problems I haven't been very helpful with yours."

"God, I missed you." Nicole releases a heavy breath and leans down, kissing the hand laced with hers. "All I do is get hurt when you're not here."

"No kidding," Waverly laughs. She places her hand softly on Nicole's cast, fingering the edge of the material where it meets her palm. "But I missed you too. So much."

Nicole shakes her head. "I'm an idiot. Your idiot, but an idiot nonetheless."

"I really, really want to hug you." Waverly's eyes still have some hesitance, like she doesn't want to spook Nicole. Her worry resolved when Nicole drops her head onto Waverly's shoulder and wraps her good arm around the smaller girl's waist. Waverly is gentle, not wanting to squeeze too tightly for fear of hurting Nicole further. 

"I love you," Nicole murmurs into her neck before pulling away. Waverly smiles,"I love you too." She starts to lean in before something clicks in her head and she rears back. "Can I kiss you?" 

"You'd better." Nicole grins, meeting hazel eyes before pressing their lips together.

"I love you," Waverly says again, against Nicole's lips. "I love you so much." 

"I love you more than anything." Nicole pulls away for a moment, looking into Waverly's eyes and pressing their foreheads together. Waverly giggles at the way Nicole's breath tickles her cheek and brings her hands up to cup the sides of Nicole's head, kissing her again. They stay like that for what seems like forever, rediscovering each other and relishing in the feeling of each other's lips. The world has righted itself; the floor has returned to its place beneath their feet. The smoke is gone and Nicole's hands are her own again.

And for the first time since that night, Nicole breathes. She clearly, properly, breathes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a happy ending. Shocking, I know. But I do like this one, because not only was Wayhaught kind of ignored in season 3 but they also could have done so much more for Nicole's character and storyline with the Cult of Bulshar survivor thing. i decided to give them a little something. I hope I did a good job, and I hope you enjoyed. Comments and kudos are appreciated. Thanks for reading. Find me on tumblr @angelhaught


End file.
